


Chapters Yet To Come

by frodolass



Series: Dream With Hope [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Implied Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, M/M, POV First Person, Pining, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2819237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frodolass/pseuds/frodolass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the Sea in Valinor, Frodo thinks of Sam and Bilbo's final words to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapters Yet To Come

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Slash or M/M romance fic, so if that upsets you, scram. The Lord of the Rings and its characters do not belong to me. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant professor and author. This can be seen as taking place at the exact same time as Grey Lament (which you should read if you like this fic). Hopefully I'll be able to turn this and Grey Lament into a much larger fic. It's set some 15 years after Frodo left Middle-earth. Please review a lot! I loves my reviews!

I look out towards the gray waves of the sea as I make my way along the shoreline, watching the sun rise above it like a golden flower from the yielding earth. The white sand is soft under my feet and the gulls seem to call out to me from above. A sweet breeze blows from the East, ruffling my hair and clothes, and I inhale that precious air almost greedily. I have taken this same path every morning since I came to this place of supposed bliss, always to meet the new day with my eyes turned toward that which I left behind.

It doesn't seem to have been too long ago since I left, and yet it feels like a thousand ages since I last saw him, gazing at me with shimmering eyes and trembling lips begging me to stay. Has it really been only 15 years since he held me tightly in his arms, his curly head bent onto my weary shoulders with tears that could have drowned me in sorrow? It might as well have been just yesterday or forever in this place.

Bilbo passed away last night. He went peacefully, as every good person should but don't always have the chance to do. He waited until he could once again look up and see the Elvish stars he loved so much before he left us. Everyone mourns his passing, but none more so than I. After my parents died, he had been the only real family I had ever known. He was both my father and mother in their absence. I realize that he didn't have to take me in like he did, so long ago now, but he did and I'm ever grateful for it and for him. He shall be dearly missed.

However, as I take a seat among some coral rocks near the water's edge, I cannot be completely sad. It was his time, and he was ready for it. He had lived a good long life among all his loved ones. His life had been a great adventure and it was simply the happy ending he had waited for. He's at peace now, happy wherever he is, and I'm glad for him. I wish that I could someday end so beautifully, but that is likely a wish that will never be granted.

The pain has not left me, as I thought it would. Instead it mutated itself into a different sort of pain but just as unbearable, if not more so. Where in Middle-earth I experienced the pain of darkness and unrest, I now here in Valinor feel the pain of emptiness and loneliness. The wound in my shoulder no longer ails me as it once did, but the wound in my heart bleeds freshly every passing day that I don't see him. And none save him would have the power to heal it again. But I shall not be healed. I shan't because I left him behind, even as my soul wept to stay by his side forever and onward.

I had thought once upon a time that I might try to be happy with simply having him near me. I believed that that was all I needed. Yet I was wrong, dead wrong. I knew it wasn't enough from the moment he uttered the words, "It's Rosie... Rose Cotton." I desperately needed him all to myself, looking only at me, standing by my side alone. The need was so selfish and primal it terrified me. The only emotion that had ever come close to it was that of the Ring-lust. That's why I held back. That's why I forced a smile on my face and told him to just marry the lass.

I tried to be happy for him. I tried to smile as he took Rose's hand on their wedding, as he kissed her lips to seal their fate together. At the very least I had the excuse of being supremely moved and happy for the new couple when tears began to blind my vision, blurring the image of them dancing together, of them holding one another. At the very least I had the excuse of being ill from drinking too much ale when I slipped away from the party. I had sprinted into a run as soon as I knew I was out of sight. How my feet flew! I ran past the hobbit holes, past the market place, past the inns. I ran as if I could run away from the hurt and pain eating at my heart and crushing my throat. I did not stop until I tripped and fell, tumbling down the slop that lay beside the Water and crashing into its cold embrace. And there I lay, the upper half of my body submerged in the Water with my lower half sprawled out on the muddy bank, and I contemplated just laying there and drowning to put end to my misery.

But I knew I couldn't follow through with it. It would break Sam's heart, and I knew I could never willingly cause him pain. He deserved to be happy and whole, not torn in two between a need to live his own life and an obligation to serve an old Hobbit. I knew I had to relieve him of the obligation, but that wasn't the way to do it. So I picked myself up and walked on for hours uncounted, until the stars were already bright and the moon was high in the sky. I dreaded the return to Bag End, dreaded walking down the long hallway knowing what Sam and Rose would most likely be doing in one of those rooms. But I knew I had to.

I had meant to go straight to my room and shut myself in to nurse my misery, but as I passed Sam and Rose's door and I could hear both grunting and breathing heavily beyond it, I found myself pacing back and forth in front of that door. I had always dreamt late at night that someday I could be the one inside that door with Sam, making those noises, being the cause of them. This was more like a nightmare. Nothing Sauron and all his dark forces would do, short of killing him in front of me, could have hurt me worse than this had. Rose's sudden cry caused me to stop pacing and I stared hard at the door as if I could see him through it if I glared hard enough, my heart freezing and shattering as her cry shattered within.

I thought I could be happy, just being with him, having him at hand. But in the end it broke me.

As I sit here on the shores of Aman, I recall the final words of Bilbo to me. He had asked everyone else, even Gandalf, to leave us alone. He motioned for me to come stand by him, and as I did so he took my four fingered hand in his delicate, aged one. "Frodo, my lad," he said to me, "it's high time that you found your place in this world."

"Whatever do you mean, Bilbo dear?" I said softly, stroking the top of his hand with my fingers. "My place is here, with you."

"No longer, lad. Bilbo Baggins' time for adventure is over. My chapter has ended," he smiled and it seemed to add a thousand more creases in his kindly face. "You, on the other hand, have many more chapters ahead of you. You must go and make sure that they'll be worth reading about."

"But Bilbo-"

"Now, now, don't interrupt an old Hobbit when he's trying to give you some well earned advice." He took in a deep breath, and for a couple of moments he didn't speak. I waited patiently until he started again. "I know you've been hurt, my dear Frodo, very deeply. Many terrible things have occurred in you life, and as much as I wish that you had been spared the pain of it, all things happen for a reason. 'What doesn't put you out is liable to make you stronger' as my father had always said."

I looked at Bilbo bewildered, as I wasn't sure what he was trying to say, but I held my tongue as he continued. "Everyone has to overcome hurdles over the course of time, some more dark than others, in order to live a full and healthy life. You're still young and have so much track ahead of you, it's far too soon for you to be trying to drop out of the race." He suddenly let out a succession of coughs, and I rushed for some water. He drank it eagerly and at last managed to calm down again.

I knelt down and looked at Bilbo dead in the eyes. "Bilbo, my time is over. It was over from the moment the Ring had been destroyed. It was over the moment the Shire had been restored. It was over-" I cut myself off before I could say, "the moment I left Samwise in the Grey Havens."

Bilbo gazed at me and somehow knew what I was thinking. He has an uncanny way of knowing just what I'm thinking at times. "No, Frodo. It's not over yet. Not for you. It's time you stopped running, my lad. It's time you went home."

"Home?" I asked shakily. "T-that's not possible, Bilbo-"

"Oh piffle!" Bilbo insisted. "Of course it is possible. All you have to do is make the decision to do it, and then you do it."

"B-but I can't g-go back," I cried out, near to tears. "Sam-"

"Ah ha!" Bilbo exclaimed triumphantly. Perhaps a little too triumphantly as it caused another bout of coughing. "There is the point!" he said after recovering again. "'If you want to get at a weed, you first got to get at the roots,' as Old Gaffer Gamgee used to say to me. I've suspected for a long time that the real root to your problem might not have been wholly the Ring's fault after all."

I shook my head in denial. "It was the Ring. Nothing else."

"Nothing? Not even a certain gardener's affections being occupied elsewhere?" Bilbo smiled knowingly and chuckled at my own incredulous look. "Yes, Frodo. I know all about how you feel about Sam. He was a fine lad, and as you two had spent so much time together, I hardly expected less."

I bent my head, feeling the wound in my heart begin to bleed more freely. It hurt to think about him in this way, knowing that he didn't think the same of me and that he probably hadn't even turned his thoughts to me in all these years. Bilbo's hand fell on my head and stroked my curls comfortingly. "Lad, lad. Have you ever considered that all your heartache might be uncalled for? Must you so firmly hold onto the belief that he returns none of your feelings for him?"

"He doesn't," I rasped, looking up with what I guessed was red as I was close to weeping. "I know he doesn't. He never did. He belongs to Rose Cotton. He never belonged to me."

"You seem so sure, Frodo, but tell me this. If he hadn't cared for you, would he have traveled through so much danger and through so much toil so far away from all that he knew?" Bilbo leaned back further into his pillows and watched me rise to my feet again. "Would he have walked through hellfire and death to assist you and stand by you during your Quest? He had no place in it, no obligations to the destroying of the Ring, and yet he came without so much as a thought for himself. Can you explain why that is?"

I couldn't say a word. All protests where lodged in my throat. Bilbo grinned. "Shall I explain it then? Trust a hobbit who did much the same as he did, once upon a time." He shivered, but whether from a chill or from long burried memories, he could not tell. "It's because his thought had been all for you. Because you were his Mr. Frodo, and he meant to keep you, though Heaven itself should stand against his claim. He could do no less than to follow you, whatever peril you lead him into. He had wholly given himself to you, and you couldn't even see it. My goodness, what is wrong with young hobbits these days..." He trailed off and took to muttering.

I thought about what he had said, reaching out for every possible reason why he was wrong. "But in the end, all that didn't matter to him. He took Rose."

"Well, what choice did you leave him, Frodo, my lad? You never once spoken of your feelings to him and a body can't wait around forever for trees to lift up their stubborn old oaken roots and walk." I almost would have laughed at the analogy if I hadn't felt so miserable. "Anyhow, in spite of the whole marriage business, had he ever started treating you differently?"

"No," I admitted.

"You did, though, I can see that. Knowing you, you probably locked yourself up in your study as if you could lock him out of your heart all together. Tell me that I'm wrong." Of course, he didn't wait for me to tell him anything but went on. "That's where you went wrong, my lad, don't you see? Think back on the time during the Quest. Had you ever once felt the pain of darkness too much to bear as long as you had Sam to fall back on? Had you ever felt that you couldn't make it through when he was near?"

I thought about it. I wracked my brain trying to think of a moment, an instant, when such a thing had occurred. But nothing came to me, because there never was such a time. Sam had always been there for me to lean on. He had become my support when my strength proved too little. He had been my rock.

Realization hit my like a thunderbolt and I stood before Bilbo dumbstruck. All this time, all the pain of darkness and later of emptiness I had experienced since the Quest ended, all of it had been of my own doing. If I had allowed myself to fall back on Sam as I had done before, instead of shutting him out of my life out of jealousy and self-pity, then my pain would have been lessened and would have been bearable, not unlike the pain of losing my parents. Bilbo had been my support when the pain of losing both mother and father filled me, and in just the same way, Sam had become my support when the memory of evil and darkness consumed me. He had been my anchor, and without him, I had become a drifting ship on the endless gray sea.

Tears fell freely from my eyes as I held Bilbo's hand and wept onto it. "Oh, Bilbo... What have I done..."

"There now, lad. It's all right. Its not too late, remember?" he smiled at me and gingerly pulled me into a hug. "As I said, you have many chapters left before the end, and there is time yet to make things right. Are you willing now to stop running and give it a go?"

I laughed through my tears and rubbed my nose. "Yes, yes. Bless you, dear Bilbo. You were always the only one who could knock some sense into me."

"I have been," he murmured and sighed, turning his face back up towards the stars. "But soon you shall have to be able to find you own sense. The time is drawing near, and now that I know you'll do what must be done, I am glad indeed." I bent down and kissed his forehead, whispering my goodbyes with new sorrow awakening in me at the prospect of loosing one of the my dearest friends.

Bilbo blinked rather drowsily and smiled. "The stars of Elbereth are more beautiful than ever tonight. Farewell, Frodo, my lad... until out next meeting..." And then he slowly closed his eyes and Frodo caught the softest of whispers, "I wonder if I shall be allowed to see him again," before the ancient hobbit began to sing his last song.

 

_The Road goes ever on and on,_  
 _Far over hill and over sea._  
 _The sun is set, the stars are shone,_  
 _As I lie here under tree._

_And now I go to a distant shore,_  
 _Where none alive have come to pass._  
 _This Road is end and is no more,_  
 _And I am free to rest at last..._

 

Silence settled and he moved not again. Long did I sit by his side, my heart freely pouring out all the grief that filled me so deeply, and yet I was glad for him, and so I am. He had lived life to its fullest, and now, as I sit beside the sea and think, I realize that it's time I did the same.

"I know you will see them all again, Uncle Bilbo, my dear," I say aloud to the breeze with a bittersweet feeling swelling in my heart.

"Frodo?" a voice from not too far behind calls to me. I know without looking who it is. Gandalf is just the same as ever, clothed in flowing white that never seemed to hinder his long, steady paces. He paced towards me now, a gentle look on his face as he gazed down at me. "The time is come. You're ship awaits. Are you ready?"

I give one more glance towards the sea, towards the Road I had newly chosen, and then cast my stare upon the old yet strong wizard. Somehow, the bleeding in my heart had stopped up and my spirit lightens as if some heavy darkness had finally departed from it.

"Yes, Gandalf, " I say with an eager smile that leapt up from the depths of my soul. "I'm ready to go home."


End file.
